


By the Sea

by Spot_On60



Category: A-Team 2010, A-Team Movie, The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6111443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spot_On60/pseuds/Spot_On60
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Team rescue a disheartened woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A dune separated the three-floor summer house from the beach. Face watched as the grasses swayed in the breeze and waves rolled in not far beyond. The third floor balcony could be accessed from two locations of the master suite; the bedroom or the bath. He stood on the deck with his hands on the railing, arms spread wide. One leg straight, one knee cocked. He was wearing the cut offs Hannibal loved seeing him in, hanging low on his hips, the shape of his ass well defined below. He had lost muscle bulk over the past few years, yet leaning on the rail with no shirt and no shoes, the sun on his back, Hannibal thought him nothing short of an Adonis. Standing in front of the lounge chair Hannibal occupied, Face essentially blocked the scene from him.

This was Face's favorite view, anywhere near water. Hannibal often joked, saying he should have joined the Navy instead of the Army. Face always told him the same thing. He didn't necessarily want to be in or on the water, just near enough to look at it. Hannibal, on the other hand was happiest anywhere Face was blocking his view. They could be in Paris, London, Madrid, Duluth or Texarkana, he didn't care. As long as Face was with him, he honestly didn't care where he was.

"I'm gonna take a walk down to the beach. You wanna come with?"

"You go ahead. I'm going to keep reading," Hannibal replied lifting his book. Murdock had given him The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook by Piven and Borgenicht for his birthday and he had been skipping around its pages for the past hour.

The promise of all day warmth was beginning to ebb. Temp had stepped inside to grab a sweater. Returning, he was pulling the soft v-neck over his head. Pushing up the sleeves he looked at Hannibal's book, "How is that?"

"Not bad. It may actually come in handy."

Temp leaned over and kissed the top of his head.

He looked up, "What's that for?"

"Because I can."

Temp headed down the stairs and John soon saw him crossing the dune on his way to the water. He was smitten with his man. Even after five years he felt their romance was only beginning. Perhaps it was his age. He was fifty-three now. Well into middle age, on the far end of it. Another few years and he would qualify for senior discounts everywhere. He didn't feel like it now, but wouldn't it be all downhill from there? He already looked the part, having greyed early. It seemed each passing year shortened his perception of time.

Perhaps it was Face's age. Seventeen years his junior. Well, let's say around seventeen. Between the orphanage only being able to guess at it and his own lying about it to join the Army, no one was really sure of his age anymore. Be that as it may, Face seemed to have so much more time. Five years was a drop in the bucket for him. At, around, thirty-six he was still firmly planted in youth, Hannibal thought he would hold his youth longer than the rest of them had before joining them in middle age. With a clever, efficient and imaginative mind Face was a mature and highly intelligent strategist. Yet he maintained a young outlook, a playfulness Hannibal loved. From goofing off with his best buddy, Murdock, to his infectious laugh when John bundled him in his arms.

They had met over fifteen years before. Hannibal was a Major whose personal life had disintegrated several years prior. Face was a lost Second Lieutenant on his way to being shown the door with a dishonorable discharge. If you asked Face, he would tell you Hannibal had saved his life. Ask Hannibal and he would say the opposite was the case.

Temp was at water's edge and heading North. Hannibal heard someone open a door and step out onto the deck below. He knew it was Murdock when the pilot began humming The Wind Beneath My Wings.

"Murdock?"

"Yeah, Boss," he heard in reply through the floorboards.

"You good for the night? I wanted to take Face out to dinner."

"Sure, I'm good, Boss. What's the occasion?"

"No reason. Just wanted to spend some alone time with him."

"I wasn't planning anything more than watching some tv."

 

They had been summoned to this seaside community by a small band of shopkeepers. Their little vacation hamlet was being terrorized by thugs in the employ of one Charles Barlow. A developer of resort communities from beach front to ski resorts to grand wooded and mountain lodges, Barlow had one game plan. He drove out the little guy then reopened the local businesses under new management - his. He and his property manager made seamless transfers from individual merchants to a business ownership monopoly. The beauty of their plan was it involved no other set up financing than paying significantly below market value for the businesses. As going concerns, the businesses would turn their inventory over to items sourced from companies Barlow had a stake in, effectively selling product twice without competition. These businesses would be fed by the new seaside resort, the model of which lived in Barlow's office.

Each of the team had their roles to play. BA and Murdock were hapless business owners; BA with a garage, Murdock with a bakery. Face was a banker with limited scruples who was more than enthusiastic to get in on Barlow's action. Hannibal, the newly appointed mayor taking over for the previous who apparently left town in the middle of the night after one too many death threats, but in actuality was playing clandestine advisor to Hannibal. And Hannibal was glad of it. Terry Powell, part-time mayor, full time insurance agent had a very strategical side. Probably a result of years staring at actuary tables.

The beach house where they were staying was provided by a local realtor, Gloria Stewart, who owned several rentals around town and along the shore. Being the off-season they had their choice. She had been made insulting offers for her properties, with the last delivered along side thinly veiled threats of arson. She was happy to provide the accommodations to the handsome young man they called Face, oh, and also the three guys with him. They had their plan worked out and were ready to set it in motion in three days, one day prior to the deadline Barlow had given the town via the now absent mayor.

 

Hannibal made his way to the kitchen for a ginger ale. BA was under the sink installing a new garbage disposal. Any property they stayed in BA took an inventory of mechanicals. It was the rare residence he didn't find something that needed to be repaired or replaced.

"BA, mind if Face and I go out on our own tonight?"

"Don't bother me none, Hannibal. What's the occasion?"

Hannibal turned his head slightly and furrowed his brow, "Nothing special. Just want to get him out for awhile."

Passing the dining table in the great room he glanced  at the town map and schematics they had used to formulate the plan and the firepower needed for it to succeed. Barlow's men had done a good job of striking predatory fear into the  hearts of the residents, but this prey had more moxey than their predecessors. As per usual, Barlow had  backed off, called his men in. He gave the people of the town a week to work themselves into a dither. He would then descend on the town in person surrounded by his monkeys.Having done the same many times over in other towns with no serious opposition, Hannibal smiled  when he thought of the surprise he was in for. Hannibal loved surprises, whether they involved birthday candles or C-4.

Making his way back up to the master suite he heard his mate entering from the balcony door.

Meeting in the bedroom, Hannibal wrapped Face into his arms and said quietly into his ear, "Get dressed. I'm taking you out."

"Is that alright with the guys?"

"Already cleared it with them."

"What's the occasion?"

"Does it have to be an occasion?! Can't I just take you out because I want to?!" he barked.

"Keep that up and we won't be going anywhere."

Hannibal just looked at him for a few too many seconds then said, "Murdock asked, 'What's the occasion?' Then BA asked, 'What's the occasion?' Now you're asking, 'What's the occasion?'" He wrapped his hands around the back of Temp's neck, "The only occasion is I'm feeling a little possessive, and I'm looking forward to having your undivided attention tonight."

Temp smiled, "Why 'n ya just say so?" then ducked under Hannibal's arm before he got smacked.

John dropped his arms and head and chuckled.

"What kind of 'out' are we talking about? Jeans and sweater? Suit and tie? Or somewhere in between?"

"What would you like?"

"It's probably too late to get reservations for a suit and tie. And I can wear jeans and a sweater around here."

John was now standing beside him at the closet reaching for slacks and a sport coat, "Have a taste for anything in particular?"

Temp looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "I think," he contemplated, "the occasion calls for crab cakes."

He couldn't help laughing when John shoved him.

 

They travelled several towns north up the coast so as not to be recognized and have a peaceful and private meal. Returning for the night they stopped in town and did a walk through of the plan. Standing in an alley as wide as a street Temp pushed his jacket fronts behind him as he rested a hand on each hip, "Why do we even bother walking through these plans? They never work right anyway."

Hannibal's head remained tilted up at the landing at the top of the outdoor staircase even as his eyes glanced down at his whiney kid. "Because one of these days we're going to have a plan that works the way it's suppose to and we need to be prepared," he stated with conviction.

Face shifted his weight, "You really believe that?"

"Hell no."

Both of them laughing, Hannibal slung an arm around Face's shoulder and guided him toward where they had parked the SUV. This was a characteristic of their relationship, they laughed together. They were forever looking for the ridiculousness in their situation. Hannibal was convinced if they ever stopped, the magnitude of the thing would surround and doom them.

Back at the house and in their upstairs suite, Hannibal gathered Temp in a bear hug lifting him off his feet to spin him. He never took him around three sixty, just enough to elicit a laugh verging on a giggle. Setting him down Hannibal took his hand, leading him to the balcony doors. Stepping to the rail Temp looked out over the moonlit ocean while John leaned against it facing back into the house. He laid his head back and looked at the stars.

They were both lost in their own thoughts for a few moments. Hannibal straightened coming away from the rail. He held his hand out, palm up, "Come make love to me." Temp took it and followed him inside.

 

Hannibal pressed between his shoulders, encouraging him to lower his chest toward the bed. He obliged and slid his hands forward. Forehead to the mattress, hips canted back, he was in a full cat stretch. Hannibal stroked his back, from between his shoulders all the way down his spine to between the two dimples in his lower back. He slid all the way in him, ground in as he reached his hilt. Leaning forward and starting at the outside of Temp's shoulders, he dragged his hands along the V shape of his back. He rubbed and kneaded Temp's lower back, before his hands found their way to a firm hold on each hip. He rutted into him then stilled.

"Lie down, Babe."

Temp's knees slid back as he lowered his thighs to the bed. His legs spreading to either side of John's knees. His head turned to the right, laying on the sheet. Hannibal lay on top of him, nuzzling him behind his ear. He had stayed inside him and remained still.

"Beau" spoken quietly.

Hearing his pet name spoken, John wiped the hair from Temp's face and kissed him on the temple.

Hannibal slowly slid outward. Upon reaching his tip, descended again, feeling every inch inside his man. He had ceased the pounding, he slowed the speed. This had stopped being sex a while back. It was a joining, it was consummation.

Temps eyes were closed. He was feeling every moment as John drifted in and out of him. His hands were above his head, elbows out. Hannibal was urging his right knee up and out. He had moved off Temp's back and increased his speed, once again thrusting. Taking Temp by his right hip he rolled him to his side, holding his knee to his chest. Face was covering his eyes with his hand, absorbing each plunge made into him.

Hannibal held still, pressed deep within him. He pushed Temp's knee tight to his chest, rolling him to his back. Reaching under Face's shoulders he repositioned him on the bed. Temp's head dipped back as he allowed himself to be moved where John wanted him. Easing down onto his chest John resumed his careful slide.

There was no rush to the finish. As far as they were concerned no big finish was necessary. This was making love. This was expressing to each other. It wasn't so much fulfilling a physical need as an emotional one.

The motion of John's abs rubbing his glans brought him to climax. It was so subtle John would have missed it if he hadn't gone to kiss him just then. He watched those pupils blow wide just before his eyes closed. Temp's whispered "oh" faded into the room. It melded with the sound of the waves, the smell of pheromones and the huffs of breath. John didn't disturb him with kisses or strokes of his hands, he only lifted a little so as not to overstimulate the lightly quaking man below him. He only continued wending his way forward and aft in the gentle rhythm. Without prelude he stuttered and was overcome by the force of his own stream.

Temp was coming back into his own. It was now for him to watch the shutters close on dilated grey blue eyes. He realized he was clenching John's shoulders and softened his grip. Hannibal relaxed back down on him, his penis retreating but still within. Temp wrapped one arm around his back and with the other hand combed through John's down soft hair.


	2. Chapter 2

Face watched in horror as Hannibal was blown back and off his feet. Arms out to his sides, too high above the railing to grab it, too far from the clapboard of the building to reach it to cause drag. He plummeted backwards, airborne down the entire flight to the sandy dirt at the bottom of the steps, his head slamming to the ground as he landed, his lower back on the bottom step.

The shooter started down the stairs, an aggressive swagger to his movements. He was raising his rifle. Stopping halfway down the flight he had the weapon almost fully raised to aim at Hannibal's motionless body below when Face fired. His shot hit its mark, straight through the firing hand. That bastard would never shoot a gun with that mangled appendage again. He dropped the rifle, but it seemed to catch on his finger and it fired. The man collapsed. Face watched to see if he would take a header over the railing. Instead he stumbled down two stairs before turning to run back up, trailing blood from his gushing hand. As he made it up two steps Face could see the hole in the side of the clapboard from the discharge of the rifle.

His only thought was to get to John safely. He wouldn't be any use to him if he wasn't smart and was hit himself. Couldn't let this asshole get back inside and out of sight. He took aim again firing into the man's legs. He went down hard with a cry, bouncing back down the stairs to where he had taken the first hit.

"Shit!" He lifted out of firing position, scanning the area from his rooftop. The rifle wasn't on the stairs. Looking closely he saw where it have fallen below. Satisfied the shooter wouldn't be able to reach the weapon he looked at John again. It didn't appear he had moved. He fingered his mic, "Hannibal's down, repeat, Hannibal's down."

Murdock responded, "Where, Faceman?"

"Second floor backdoor, Southwestern corner. Stairs along side of building. He's at the bottom of the stairs."

"We've got five backing that way. Don't know if we can stop them moving in that direction. What do want us to do?"

"Keep 'em coming. I'll pick them off on the stairs."

BA piped in, "We're missin' one Face."

"I got him pinned down on the stairs. You've got five?"

"That's right."

Good, that meant they had Barlow.

"Push them out the door, don't let them retreat back inside."

"Roger."

"Copy that."

Face waited. His training normally would have kept him calm, but it was John laying at the bottom of the stairs. He could feel himself being flooded with adrenaline. _No, no, no, no....stay calm....don't lose it._ He saw a shadow in the doorway. _Wait_. One of the men emerged. _Wait_. He didn't lead with his barrel. He had the gun up in the air and was looking back from where he came. The shooter must have made a noise, because he turned and headed down the stairs toward him. His gun was still pointed up. He reached him and squatted down to check.

Two more came through the doorway, both looking back from where they came. The first one was aiming back through the door, but didn't scan what was happening outside. The other had his weapon pointed up. _Fuckin' amateurs_.

He clicked the mic, "Drop down boys."

"Roger,"  
"Roger," came back in quick succession.

Face took aim at the one pointing back in through the doorway. A split second after he heard his weapon fire he saw the tell tale red spurt from the elbow. His gun fired into the doorway before falling on the landing.

Face quickly spun to the man with Hannibal's injured shooter. He stood when shots were fired in the door. Face aimed for his legs and fired twice. He collapsed dropping his gun between the stairs.

The second man in the doorway was Barlow. He panicked and began shooting indiscriminately in a semicircle around him like he was a turret gunner. He hit the other man on the landing who broke through the railing. Before falling back he grasped blindly, grabbing Barlow, pulling him over the side with him. Face could hear the thud of the first man landing flat on his back, then the sound of snapping echoing between the two buildings as Barlow somehow landed feet first. He crumbled to the ground, one or both legs shattered. Face didn't give a damn which had happened. Barlow reached for the weapon that lay nearby, Face popped one off into the sand as a warning.

 

BA clicked in, "We got one down in here."

"Murdock report!"

"I'm okay, Faceman."

Sheriff Avery looked around the far end of the structure.

BA came on, "Number five has surrendered."

"Hold him there BA. Murdock! Get to Hannibal. He's through the door at the bottom of the stairs. Be careful, the railing's out at the top."

"Roger Faceman, already coming out the door."

Face was across the roof to the stairs on the opposite side and already taking two and three steps at a time. He stumbled almost at the bottom while shouldering his rifle, his legs folding under him, he had to grab the railing with both hands to keep from taking a dive. He sprinted to the end of the building and skidded taking the corner, touching down with the fingertips of his right hand. From the time Hannibal had gone down to Face running across the sandy expanse between the two buildings couldn't have been more than four minutes.

John appeared to be exactly as he had originally fallen. _Oh god no ..... please please please._ Murdock was down beside him, stroking his hair back on his head. Face fell to his knees on the other side. John's eyes turned to look at him. Murdock's hand was gone from his head. Face reached to stroke his cheek. As he did he could feel a hand grasp his shoulder.

"He was just waking up when I got here," Murdock reported.

"Beau," Temp said quietly.

"Is he okay?" This came from Deputy Nolan who appeared out of nowhere above them.

"Murdock," he whispered, "Will you please take over?"

His reply was a squeeze to the shoulder and seeing movement as Murdock stood up. His eyes never left Hannibal's. He heard talking over them, but he didn't hear what was being said nor really registering they were walking away.

"Is BA okay?" Hannibal whispered. Face nodded. "All the bad guys accounted for?" Face nodded again. "You did good, Kid," Hannibal said low.

A sob escaped Temp. He blinked and blinked, stopping the tears before they could do more than wet his lashes. His nose was beginning to run and he was desperately trying to keep his jaw from quivering. He ran his knuckles down John's cheek.

"Don't cry, babe. It'll be okay." John didn't like the worry he saw in Face's furrowed brow.

Pressing and carefully sweeping over the Kevlar he found the point of impact, dead center. He sniffed and blinked again, "Can you move?"

"I don't know."

"Let's start with your feet." Hannibal obediently moved his feet around from the ankles.

"Move your legs at the knees. Carefully, John. Pay attention to your hips." Bending his knees up a little more than they already were he moved one out and the other in and back again.

Temp touched his opposite wrist, "Can you give me your hand?" He did. "And this one." Also a success. Temp kept hold of his hand and stroked his hair back then palmed his cheek, "You stay put until BA gets here to help me get you up. How's your neck?"

He moved his head slowly from side to side, "Seems okay. Give me a hand here. I can get up."

"Please John. Wait for one of the guys." He returned his hand to his cheek.

"Okay, Boss." He smiled lightly and leaned into Temp's hand.

"I wish I could kiss you."

"Why don't you? I'm flat on my back. You could have your way with me."

"There're too many people around."

"You're such a prude."

Face tisked and huffed at him. Then movement caught his attention, "Here comes BA."

"Missed your chance, Kid."

"Behave yourself."


	3. Chapter 3

Face was rolling his eyes, but his voice was soft and just this side of seductive. "Well, Gloria, we had planned on leaving town just as soon as we were through. We washed the sheets and all the dishes and packed our clothes, but we're going to need a couple more days if that's not a problem with you. Did you have renters scheduled for the house?"  
.....

"I see."  
.....

"No, no, I understand. Hey! Would it help if we do the cleaning? Every one of us knows how to dust and run a vacuum."  
....

"Awww, that's my girl. You know we wouldn't ask if we didn't have a man down." He petted Hannibal's head as it lay in his lap. They were in the backseat of the SUV, him behind BA, Hannibal half laying across the bench seat. Murdock was riding shotgun.

....  
"Mmmm? No, that's not going to work. Dinner tomorrow?" He briefly looked to the side out the window. He had a flash of helping John out of his vest, but he wouldn't let Temp look at his chest. When he turned back, Hannibal was holding a thumbs up in front of him. He rolled his eyes again, "Sure! Tomorrow sounds great. How about I call you in the afternoon?"  
....

"Okay. I'll talk to you then."  
....

"Yep! Bye now." He pressed the button and disconnected the call. "Fuck!" He tried to take John into an awkward hug.

"Oof ... Careful there, Temp. My chest is a little sore."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry." He again petted John's head. "Fuck! I don't want to go out with her," he whined.

"She's not that bad, is she Facey?"

"She's too much. Everything about her is just ... too. She wears too much makeup. Her hair is too big. Too much perfume. She totters on heels that are too tall. Her dresses are too tight. She pushes her boobs up too high. She probably drinks too much. .... Fuck!"

"You want me to go out with her? I like pushed up boobs." This from Hannibal.

"Oh shut up." He stroked his head again.

"Temp, if it's that much of a problem, we can get going. Get on the road," Hannibal offered.

"Don't be ridiculous. You need to be in bed."

"I can be in a motel bed."

"No you can't."

"It's one evening, then we'll be on our way. You'll never have to see her again."

"I'm supposed to be taking care of you, not dating."

"I don't need 'taking care of'. It's just some bruises."

"You wouldn't know your own good if it came up and bit you in the ass."

"That doesn't even make sense. Why would my own good..."

BA looked in the rearview. He knew where it was heading. It would end with one of them saying "Fine" And the other somehow topping them by also saying "Fine". Like _that_ made sense. He nipped it in the bud, "You wanna talk about too much, talk about it later. There's too much chatter in here. I gotta concentrate on finding this house in the dark, not listening to you two."

 

They had gone back to the bank and Face retrieved the beach house keys from where he had left them in his desk. BA was pulling the bags from the back of the Suburban, Face and Murdock were escorting Hannibal upstairs when Face's phone rang. He checked it and dropped it back in his pocket, then grasped Hannibal's elbow.

"What a ya doin' Temp?"

"I'm helping you up the stairs."

"I'm perfectly capable of climbing the stairs."

"Fine." He followed behind and hit redial, "Gloria! Sorry about that. We're just getting Hannibal situated. ...... Really?" He stopped on the stairs. "Yeah! That would be great. When? Okay, I'll be downstairs waiting. Thanks, Gloria. Thank you."

Hannibal was sitting on the edge of the bed, Murdock standing beside. They were both eyeing him as he entered the room.

"That was Gloria. Guess whose brother is a doctor."

"Her brother's a doctor?" Murdock looked surprised.

"Yeah, they'll be here in fifteen minutes."

"I don't need a doctor." John was being obstinate.

"It won't hurt to have you looked at, John."

"I'm telling you I don't need a doctor."

"Then you get up, go downstairs, answer the door and tell him yourself."

"I'll tell him when he gets up here."

"You'd make the guy come all the way up two flights of stairs cuz you don't feel well enough to go downstairs to tell him you don't need a doctor?"

Hannibal didn't answer.

"You're gonna let him look at you."

"Fine."

"Fine."

When Temp insisted, he always got his way.

 

Face was pacing back and forth in front of the living room sliders absently chewing on a thumbnail. This was taking an awfully long time for someone who didn't need a doctor. Murdock was having an animated conversation with Gloria on the merits of water softeners. Face stopped in his tracks as Gloria's brother, Mark, came down the stairs.

Looking at Face, "He wanted me to make sure you know he isn't dying. At least not yet."

Face stared at him blankly.

"That was an attempt at humor," Mark clarified when he received no response.

"What?" Face looked totally confused. _Dying_ was stuck in his head.

Murdock stood leaving Gloria on the sofa. He went to Face and put a hand on his shoulder, "It's okay, Faceman. He's telling you it's alright."

Face looked at him as though to confirm he was telling the truth. He then looked across the room to BA, who was leaning back on a barstool. The big man slowly nodded his head down once and threw him a wink. With that Face put on a mask. Smiling he said to the doctor, "Great! That's great news."

Mark now looked a little closer at Face. He thought to himself, _This man looks as beat up as the one upstairs. He just doesn't have the bruises._ "Are you alright? Do you have any injuries you need me to look at?"

"No. No, I'm fine. Just been a long day."

Murdock broke in, "Tell us about Hannibal."

"He's incredibly lucky nothing is obviously broken, at least that I can find. I'd like to run an X-ray series or two and some scans. From what I understand he fell the entire length of Guerin's back steps?" Face and Murdock looked at each other, _Who's Guerin?_

BA nodded, remembering the sign on the front of the building.

"He has some serious bruising across the back of his pelvis and right shoulder blade. He needs cold on the bruising now. Fifteen minutes on and fifteen minutes off for the next hour. It will help reduce the inflammation. Then he'll need heat starting tomorrow. His sternum took the brunt of the impact from the bullet. Without an X-ray I don't know if it's fractured. I'm sure you gentleman know those vests stop or slow down penetration, but aren't really cushions. In the next few days he's going to be in a considerable amount of pain.

"Besides the discomfort, pain can lead to pneumonia. A person in pain tends to take shorter, quicker breaths that can result in improper expulsion from the lungs. So it is important to keep his pain well managed and for him to change positions often; side to side, laying down, sitting up. If we have a warm day, open the door or windows and air out the room. When he feels up to it he can sit outside. I've given him something now, but you will need to have a prescription filled. You all with me so far?" He paused to look around the room. They were all nodding affirmative including Gloria.

Mark continued, "I don't like the bump on his head. Don't like how it feels. I would prefer he has a scan, but he refuses to go to the hospital. I'm not happy with that, but I can't force him. So we need to do this the old fashion way. It is imperative he be woken and turned every hour for the next twenty-four hours. And when you wake him, have him say a few words. I can't tell you how important that is. Understand?" All four of them nodded.

"He needs an ambulance if he does not wake up, if he has increased head pain, his vision becomes blurred, if he becomes nauseated or vomits, if he develops bruising around his eyes or if his speech is slurred or confused. Wanted or not, he will likely die if he develops any of those symptoms and he is not treated." He paused to let it sink in. "Gloria how long can they use the house?"

"As long as they need. I was going to have it cleaned and closed for the year, but I can put that off."

"Okay, I want him on bed rest for at least three days, then if he's feeling up to it he can go out on the deck for a time for couple of days. After that, whatever he is up for, but shouldn't be far from a bed or sofa for several days."

Face's mouth was hanging open. He was worried, yes, but had no idea Hannibal was so badly injured. Not with how he had been behaving. "We can't stay here that long," he blurted out.

"Why not?" Mark asked.

"Because we can't have people knowing we're still here, saying the wrong thing. Even if they don't intend to, someone could tip off outside authorities and we'd be sitting here. Plus we told the sheriff we'd do our thing and leave. Let him and his men take the credit." It was now early evening. "As it is now, Hannibal, and the rest of us for that matter, are going to need something to eat. One of us is going to have to risk going out for food. Every time someone leaves they risk being followed. With Hannibal down I can't chance it. People here know who we are. It's one thing if it's just a night or two, but you're talking longer than that."

"He shouldn't be moved in the next few days and it would be best for him to rest for a minimum of a full week."

"A week?!" Face ran his hands through his hair. "A day or two maybe, but we can't be here for a week."

"Listen to me. You can't move him. It could kill him." Mark had no problem being blunt.

Gloria interjected, "No one but Mark and I know you're here." She looked to each of them. "We can take care of groceries and medications for you. You'd never have to leave." She looked at her brother, "Right Mark?"

He didn't answer immediately.

"I said, Right Mark!," she barked. It became pretty clear she was an older sister.

"Right! Sure, sure, we can do that."

Face, Murdock and BA had a conference without saying a word. Temp looked at the brother and sister, "You would do that for us?"

"After what you guys did for our town, of course we would!" Gloria was all in and judging by the head nodding, so was Mark.

Face looked again at the other two. Murdock shrugged like they had no choice, BA nodded and gave him a little reassuring smile.

"Okay, I guess we stay. But we can't stay a full week. Besides Hannibal won't allow it." He then added, "May I go up and see him?"

"Of course. I'm going to sit down and write out instructions for you."

BA headed for the kitchen, "I'll get him some ice bags."

Face was on his way upstairs when Gloria said, "Murdock, why don't you help me with a grocery list?"

 

Hannibal was on his side facing away. Not wanting to jostle him Face didn't sit on the bed. He supported himself with one hand while he reached to pull the cotton blanket up over the bare shoulder. "You awake, John?" he whispered. No answer. He stood and walked around to the other side of the bed. One hand on his hip and chewing on the thumb on his other he was looking at the sleeping man when BA quietly slipped in. Only Face's eyes moved when he looked up.

BA held up the plastic zip bags of cold water and ice, and the dishtowels to wrap them in. In a low voice he asked, "Should we use towels from the bath."

This broke the spell for Face, "Yeah. I'll get them."

They had the ice water bags wrapped securely in the towels as Face lifted the bed covers away from Hannibal's back. There was a large red mark with an intense center on his right shoulder blade. This would be turning pretty colors in the next days. Scraped skin appeared peaking from the waistband of his boxers. Face slid the waist down and uncovered what was already developing into a dark and angry bruise spread across his lower back. He took the bundle BA handed him and tucked it along his pelvis. "John?" No response. Holding the next bundle to his shoulder blade, Face murmured to him while urging on his shoulder. No response. Louder now, "Come on John, need you on your back." ....... "John," he spoke sharply. "Roll to your back, now." Face gave him a pull and rolled him easily.

The blanket didn't follow as he went to his back revealing a black and purple bruise spreading up his chest. Face glanced up in time to see BA wincing as he looked on the injury. Face placed the last bundle and pulled the sheet and blanket up to his chin. Hannibal didn't move.

Face stroked his cheek. "John?"

Nothing.

He shook his shoulder, "John? Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

He took him by both shoulders and shook him firmly, "John? .... Oh god, BA ..... John!" Wanting to rub his knuckles up and down Hannibal's sternum, he had to stop himself. There was too much bruising and a possible fracture. He looked over his shoulder, BA was gone. "Wake up John."

He heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs and stepped away when Mark entered the room saying, "Don't panic. I gave him a large dose of IV pain meds. I'm not surprised it knocked him out." Mark was checking his pupil dilation rate.

"Facey?" Murdock had a hand on his back. Face didn't appear to notice. He just watched as the doctor took Hannibal's pulse and listened to his heart.

"I don't doubt he's stable. I'll check him every fifteen minutes and we'll wake him in an hour." He looked around at the three stricken men and one very worried sister. "Really, he's okay. But this should give you a good idea of what you could be up against if you don't let him rest and begin to heal."

"Why did you say to wake him up if you gave him something to knock him out?" Face was running his hand through his hair, trying to steady himself.

"That was only ten minutes ago. He doesn't need to be woken until we're on the hour. If you want to sit with him you can, but you need to stay quiet."

Murdock rubbed Face's back, "You stay with him. If you need us just call." He went to Gloria and BA and herded them out of the room. Mark followed telling Face he would be back in fifteen minutes.

Each time Mark reappeared Hannibal responded a bit more. When they decided to fully wake him, he was groggy and irritable, but coherent. Downstairs Mark instructed them to stick to a tight one hour schedule and to be sure he changed position. Face looked apprehensive when they were preparing to leave. Mark assured him the issue was a combination of injury, exhaustion and the injected drug. Both he and Gloria would return with their dinner, a few extras from the grocery and his pain meds in an hour.

Face went to the kitchen for water, he was followed by Murdock. "You okay, Facey?"

"Yeah. It's been a long day."

"You're going to need some sleep too. We should decide how we're going to schedule waking him up through the night."

"I'll do it. There's an alarm up in that room."

"That sounds good, but I'm going to take at least a couple of turns," insisted Murdock.

"I'll take a couple of turns too." BA was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. "This shouldn't be all on you, lil bro."

"Tell ya what," said Murdock pointing between BA and himself, "We'll sort it out and let you know."

Face looked from one to the other. Before he could object or say anything else, Murdock had him in a hug. "He's going to be fine, Facey. He's got three people who care about him and all willing to do what it takes to see him through." He gave him an extra squeeze then said, "You need sleep. You've had as rough a day as Hannibal has."

After Mark and Gloria left for the second time, Face made his way upstairs. Stripping down he put on boxers and got under the covers. Rolled up on his side with his hands tucked under the pillow he watched John sleep, afraid to touch him. Dozing to the picture in his mind's eye of Hannibal laying at the bottom of the stairs he roused each time one of the guys came to the room.

Come the 0200 wake up call, Face didn't stir on the other side of the bed when BA woke a very cranky Hannibal. "You better knock that off, man. Look at Face. He's exhausted, and he's worried sick about you. It's the doctor's orders we wake you up every hour. Don't be fussin' about it and waking him up. He needs his sleep. Seein' you hurt like this has been hard on him."

Hannibal thought he'd have to be pretty low to argue with that.


	4. Chapter 4

It was well after 0900 before Face rolled and stretched in the bed. He rubbed an eye and adjusted a pillow. He was trying to listen to the ocean, though the windows and door were closed. He heard a quiet grunt behind him. He startled and came fully awake, sitting up.

Hannibal opened his eyes, looking up at him.

"How are you John? Are you feeling okay?" He looked like five miles of bad road.

"Pretty sore," he mumbled.

"I bet you are. What can I do for you?"

"Get up and have some pancakes. Murdock was just here. Said he saved some for you."

"Forget that. Can I get anything or do anything? Did you get your meds?"

"Really Temp. Only thing I want is for you to stop looking so worried. Go downstairs and get yourself some breakfast and let me get some more sleep."

"Alright. Give me a minute." Pulling a pair of jeans and his shave kit from the bag on the floor he made his way into the bathroom. He used the toilet and brushed his teeth, the rest could wait until later.

Coming out he saw the clock said it was time to change positions. "Beau? I need to turn you."

"Let's just skip it this time."

"Sorry we can't do that." He reached behind John's shoulders and under his knees, "On your back?"

"On my other side."

Settling him as requested, he smoothed his hair and kissed his cheek. "I'll be back in a while. We still need to wake you every hour."

All he got was a mumbled, "Okay, Babe."

 

Downstairs, Murdock acted like he hadn't seen Face in weeks. Fawning over him he poured him a cup of coffee and pulled out a chair for him to sit then heated the pancakes he had kept aside, well hidden from BA.

"Ya know, I'm not the one who's hurt," he protested when Murdock poured the syrup for him.

"Maybe not, but you deserve a little extra attention yourself."

He loved Murdock.

 

Face was upstairs staring at and fretting over a sleeping Hannibal when Gloria returned.

"I have groceries for you!"

"We'll help you with those," offered BA.

"No. You stay inside. No one's driving by out here, but just in case," she insisted with a smile.

Murdock pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for her. As they emptied the bags and put away the groceries they chatted. BA oo'd and ah'd over a huge package of Porterhouse steaks. Murdock was already chopping vegetables to start a pot of chili.

"Where's Face?" she asked trying to sound nonchalant.

"Upstairs with Hannibal," replied BA.

"He seems very .... attentive .. to him." It was more than an observation. It was a question.

"He's like that with all of us. He's our den mother. But the two of them are especially close," noted Murdock as he chopped away.

Taking the containers of 10w40, BA headed out the door to the garage, "Gonna get that oil changed."

The fresh pot of coffee was finished brewing and Murdock filled mugs for them. When he turned around he had a clear view of Gloria. The sun still sitting in the East, blinking off the ocean, was pouring in the kitchen windows lighting their temporary benefactor. She was probably well into her fifties. He decided Face had been so worried about Hannibal he skipped over the most telling thing about Gloria that was "too". She was trying too hard not to grow old.

Face was right. Her makeup was heavy in an attempt to hide or distract from less than firm and slightly wrinkled skin. Her hair was dyed and piled high on her head. Her low cut dress was far too young for her and clearly showed the results of her push-up bra. She touched a soft spot in Murdock and probably would have in Face too, if he hadn't been so stressed. If she would back off of her unflattering beauty regiment a little, Murdock thought she'd be quite lovely.

"Have they been together a long time?" she queried.

He left the last green pepper uncut along with the knife on the chopping block and sat at the table. "Face and Hannibal have been together fifteen years now."

"He must be very worried about him."

"That he is."

"I think I was being a little pushy, asking him out for dinner. We really can't do that, can we?"

"Considering the circumstances, I don't see that happening. It would be better if we weren't seen out and about around here."

"He probably wouldn't want the company of an older woman anyhow. What is he, thirty-five?"

"I believe he's thirty-six."

"Eighteen years is a big gap."

"I know for a fact he enjoys the company of someone seventeen years older. Very fond of them."

"So he has a regular girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? No. No he doesn't have a regular girlfriend."

The topic of discussion was now coming in the room, behind Gloria. He threw a questioning glance at Murdock.

"Hey Faceman! Look who's here. Gloria brought us groceries."

She was turning in her chair as he entered. He saw Murdock tighten his lips and jerk his head sideways toward her. He shook his head and flipped his palm up, spreading his fingers asking, _What?_ Murdock silently kissed at him. This all transpired in the four seconds it took for her to push her chair from the table, turn around and flash a smile.

"Good morning, Gloria! That's so sweet of you to go to the store for us." He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. He eyed Murdock, who winked at him.

"Where's your coffee cup, Facey?"

"Must have left it upstairs."

"Well grab another one and join Gloria and I for a coffee clutch."

He poured himself a mug and set it on the table. Feeling self-conscious without a shirt and barefoot he made an excuse, "Still chilly this morning. Excuse me for a few minutes."

"My. He certainly is distracting," Gloria observed. "You say he doesn't have a girlfriend."

"It's kinda hard to keep outside relationships going."

Returning wearing the v-neck sweater and socks Face took a seat at the table.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"Much," he said brushing off the comment. "Gloria, I can't tell you how much it means to us to be able to stay here. Hannibal is in a pretty bad way this morning."

"I'm happy I can help, but I'm sorry to hear he's not doing well. Mark should be here soon. Least that's what he said last night." They sat quietly for a few minutes. Gloria glanced at Face and saw him looking past his shoulder out the bay window of the breakfast nook. "Murdock tells me the two of you have been together fifteen years."

"Hannibal and me? Yes. He's been my CO for a long time now."

"CO?"

"Commanding Officer."

"So he's an officer, but you're not."

"Well actually none of us have a rank anymore, Murdock and I were both officers and BA was enlisted."

She nodded and said, "I see," but Face wasn't sure if she did. She moved on, "Why'd you rob a bank?"

Face had taken a sip of coffee and nearly spit it out. "What?! What bank?"

"Didn't you rob a bank or a treasury or something like that? Thought that's why you're wanted."

"No. It wasn't a bank, it was currency engraving plates and we were cleared of any wrong doing in that. The problem is we escaped from prison to clear our names. So technically we're prison escapees."

"I see. I would think that would be easy to clear up."

"Yes, you would think that," interjected Murdock. "But nothing's that easy when the CIA is involved. They would just as soon bury the whole thing and us with it, forgotten in prison."

"The CIA? I thought they were concerned with foreigners, not American citizens. What did you do to piss them off?"

Face and Murdock looked at each other. Not only was this lady not stupid she had some bite.

Gloria continued on without waiting for an answer. "I thought the FBI was worried about domestic matters."

"The incident with the plates occurred overseas. That's part of how they became involved. It's a little complicated," said Face.

"Not to mention convoluted," added Murdock.

"So you were imprisoned overseas?"

"Hannibal, BA and I were here in the States. Murdock was in Germany."

"And why were you in Germany?"

"I wasn't in prison. I was in a VA hospital."

"You were injured?"

"No ma'am, I'm crazy."

"I see." She took a sip of her coffee, "We all have our peccadilloes, don't we?"

"Yes ma'am," Murdock agreed. "Some of us more than others."

She turned back to Face. "I was feeling badly about pushing so hard for a dinner date with you."

"Why ever would you think that? I was...."

She jumped in, "Murdock was telling me we couldn't go out anyway, considering the circumstances."

"Unfortunately, he's right about that. Especially with Hannibal the way he is." Face looked thoroughly disappointed as he brought his mug to his mouth for another sip.

"Have you and Hannibal been partners the entire fifteen years?"

This time Face did dribble, but avoided spraying coffee out of his nose. He grabbed a paper napkin from the beechwood holder in the center of the table and wiped his face, "I beg your pardon?" He shot Murdock a look who only raised his shoulders and flipped his hands palms up.

"I'm a very successful realtor, gentlemen. It's something you simply can't be without mastering the art of reading between the lines." She took another sip from her mug and looked out the window. "It's nice out here this time of year. I should consider staying out here myself in the Fall."

Murdock started laughing. Gloria gave him a conspiratorial wink.

Face neither confirmed or denied. He looked at the clock and said, "I need to go wake up Hannibal," relieved for the excuse.

He tried to run, but she took hold of his hand and lifted it, both of their elbows still on the table, "Mark will be here shortly. Don't you worry about him. Do what Mark tells you and he'll be okay. He's a good doctor, and I'm not just saying that because the brat's my baby brother."

Face could only smile at her, before heading back upstairs

When they were again alone Murdock got up for more coffee. "He's usually a lot smoother than that," Murdock said refilling Gloria's mug.

 

Hannibal was still laying on his side where Face had left him. A deep furrow set within his brow. Face knew, even sleeping, he was feeling pain. He hated touching him at all. Every time he woke he contracted somewhere and flinched. Neither of these men let on how much they maybe hurting. It was instinct. Don't show your weaknesses, they can be taken advantage of. He didn't look sound asleep. He looked to be in the netherworld where he couldn't escape the sharpness here and the persistent aching there.

Temp brushed his hand through John's hair. His eyes opened immediately, but didn't look up to meet his eyes. Instead they looked blinking at Temp's knee. Kneeling beside the bed, Temp brought his face into John's field of vision.

"Hi, Kid."

"Pain's really bad now, huh?"

"I'd say it's right up there with the worst I've had."

"You need to move. How about you get on your back. Mark's going to be here soon."

"Who's Mark?"

"The doctor," Temp said as he moved the covers out of the way for John to roll on his back.

Covered again he asked, "Can you get the pillows under my shoulders?" He started a crunch forward but was met with an angry pain in his chest. Temp watched as he was hit with the pain then fell back.

"Lay still. I can lift you." Temp started to work a hand behind John's shoulders. John let out a groan. "What? What happened?"

"That shoulder's sore back there, Kid."

Before he could apologize he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. When Mark entered the room Temp asked if he would help lift so a pillow could be moved under.

"Let's leave you flat for now. You're going to have to roll anyway, so I can check your back. Would you leave us alone Face?"

"He can stay," Hannibal cut in. "Where did we find you?"

"Mark is Gloria's brother. You don't remember, huh?"

"How was your date, Kid?"

"Uhh, that's not going to happen." Temp moved away from the bed to stand by the glass door.

Mark looked between the two of them, then thought he probably didn't want to know. After all, he knew his sister. "Alright Mr. Smith, let me see," leaning in to examine an eye with an ophthalmoscope. Looking in deep, then flipping the light to and fro to check dilation, then the same with the other. Hannibal winced when the bump on his head was manipulated. "I suspect we won't be having severe issues from this if they haven't manifested yet, but I still want him awake every hour until around 5:00 this evening."

He was drawing the covers down to expose Hannibal's chest. Even the doctor looked uncomfortable seeing the deep purple bruising. There was no indication of green, it was still well contained along the sternum. "I want you to start applying heat to this area. It will help dissipate blood pooled under the skin. If we can get it to spread you'll have less acute pain in the area. If Gloria doesn't have a heating pad I'll have her pick one up for you." He listened to his heart and respiration. "Your lungs still sound clear." His heart rate and temperature were taken before he was asked to roll to his side.

Hannibal made it halfway before he caught his breath and his eyes slammed shut. The guys had been helping him to turn and this was first time he had attempted it on his own. "Are you able to stay on your side once you are in position?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Face, take his hand and help him roll." Temp was immediately on it. Mark quickly checked the bruising along his pelvis, not bringing on anything more than a groan when pressed too hard. Together they were able to roll him to his back, lift him slightly and tuck pillows behind. "I suspect you have a sternal fracture. Without an X-ray I can't be certain. But, I don't think your pelvis is fractured. That's good." Temp looked at John. He looked so beat up.

"Say we know it's fractured, what do you do about it?"

"Nothing, really. We monitor the condition, but it's like a broken rib. No way to set or sling it." He packed his items away before coming up with a bottle and syringe. "This is going to knock him out like it did last night, so don't worry if he's groggy in an hour."

"Whatever it is, I don't want it," announced Hannibal.

"Don't argue with the man."

"Temp, I can't afford to be knocked out. What if something happens? Besides we need to get on the road tonight."

Mark opened his mouth, no doubt to tell him he wasn't going anywhere for a week. Temp caught his eye and shook his head vigorously.

"John, if you need help going anywhere there are two adult men and a BA to help you. You're getting the shot."

Hannibal harrumphed, too weak to put up a fight he knew he'd already lost.


	5. Chapter 5

Gloria's home was one of those wonderful clapboards the east coast is known for. She had emptied her window boxes a few weeks back while in tears. The gravity of the situation the town was facing too much to bear. She and Mark had been born and raised in the seaside village. As young adults they both turned their backs on it swearing to only return for the occasional visit to their parents. The four of them all wondered how two staunch, conservative, Republicans managed to raise not one, but two liberal Democrats.

Mark had gone North to Massachusetts, hanging a shingle in Ipswich. Gloria had gone to Chicago during the heady days of too many dance clubs and too much cocaine. She never used her degree in English Lit, but it was on Chicago's Gold Coast and then the North Shore where she honed her skills as a realtor who wouldn't look at a listing under $3 million. She married one of her wealthy clients and set up house in Kennelworth along Sheridan Rd.

When their mother passed away it was Mark who saw how frail their father had become. His sister was surprised when he informed her he would be going into practice with old Doc Woolery, returning home. He would inherit the practice when the old doctor retired, which turned out to be sooner rather than later. Only a year into the partnership and Woolery slipped on ice going on a house call, fracturing a hip. He decided enough was enough. Besides he knew it was a young man's game. He found it harder and harder to keep up with new technology and medical advancements. He spent far too much time on paperwork and staying current on his malpractice insurance.

Gloria's banker of a husband was making money hand over fist. She no longer needed to slog around in all weather when her insecure and demanding clients called. Instead, she became a hostess. One of the ladies who lunch. Her life, though wealthy and well set, had become meaningless. Her marriage had become lifeless. She regretted never having had children. Robert already had two from a previous marriage and announced that was enough. So she hostessed cocktail parties and lunched.

One evening when Robert came home after midnight, again, she was waiting up for him. He was surprised to see her sitting up in the beautifully appointed library, the room Robert always stopped in first upon arriving home.

"Why are you still up?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Flipping through mail he absently asked what she had done that day.

"Went out to lunch."

"Mmm hmm..."

"It was a restaurant the girls and I haven't tried before."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"The food was good, but it made me sad."

"Why's that?" Not really wanting to know.

"There was a couple in the corner who looked so much like you and I used to look. It really made me miss the old us. She would say something and he would laugh. He would say something and she would smile. They looked so happy together. Like they really enjoyed each other's company. It was strange seeing a man wearing a wedding ring and the woman not. Usually it's the other way around. Maybe he was just old fashion and she's some kind of modern woman. Though I use 'woman' loosely. I mean she had to be twenty, twenty-five years younger than him."

She swirled her cocktail and took a slug, "Did you enjoy your Caesar salad? Mine was delicious."

He had stopped flipping through the mail. She set her glass on a coaster, rose and went up to bed. It wasn't long before she found herself on her father's doorstep.

There wasn't a realtor in town. Real estate transactions were mostly handled by one of the big national agencies another two towns to the West. She was surprised by the divorce settlement her attorney negotiated. It was enough to start up her new office, buy herself a home and still have some to invest. That attorney was worth every penny.

Before she knew it she was becoming instrumental in turning their dying little fishing port into a Christmas and seaside vacation destination. Over the past several years she had purchased and refurbished a dozen one and two room fisherman cottages, three beachfront homes she now rented throughout the summer months. She had two more vacationer's cottages in the quaint downtown and a regular rental Jimmy Orfans had been renting for the past five years never giving her a lick of trouble.

There were still plenty of people around from when she was a kid and she socialized with them regularly. She was involved in many of the events for the tourists and locals alike. Without fail she was snagged to help with class reunions. Always insisting the name tags contained the picture of the subject from whatever reunion was being celebrated. Eighth grade class photos or high school graduation pictures, she would painstakingly try to find different pictures for each occasion.

Most of the people in question had a passing resemblance to their old photos. Interestingly, Gloria didn't look anything like hers. What had once been a Roxy Music concert T-shirt and Levis wearing natural teenager had become something that could only be described as desperate. She thought she had put that horrible lunch in Lake Forest behind her years ago. Thought she had reinvented herself. Yet every morning when she looked in the mirror she was discouraged all over again when she saw the same woman peering back.

Changing from a naturally highlighted blond to a redhead had been her first move. Then piece by piece her wardrobe of camel hair, Lily Pulitzer and cashmere were replaced with younger, hipper fashions; although, she didn't think it was called "hipper" anymore. Her face was taking a slow slide South and she had been considering a tuck here and there. But until then if she wore her hair up, just like the little tramp did and extended her eyeliner towards the ends of her eyebrows, it all gave the illusion she was young again. That she was attractive again. Because that's what men want. Not a companion of equal intellect. Certainly not one of their own age. No, once they hit their mid thirties or forty, they go back to the women in their twenties. And especially when they are rich and handsome. They'd all go for the fashion models if they could. The bastards. But what's good for the goose is good for the gander, she hit on men considerably younger than herself.

But it never turned out right. Every morning that same middle aged hometown girl stared silently from the bathroom mirror. Stared at her with hair that wasn't her own. With breasts that would never be "pert" again, that needed those underwire push-up bras. That needed an act of God or modern cosmetology to give her even a chance of looking anything like that babe in the restaurant.

This time could have been just awful. Who would have thought Face gay? Maybe he's bi, but at this point it didn't matter. She would never in her wildest dreams continue to pursue someone who was already attached. She'd never do that to someone else. And look, here it was again. That grey haired Hannibal had his young squeeze. It only proved her theory, no, her conviction about men was on the nose.

But beside all that, she had to admit this was fun. How often does a woman have access to such interesting, masculine and rather dangerous men? They were in her house and she didn't have to share them with anyone. Well except Mark, but he didn't count. She would go check on them this afternoon, but for now, she needed to get started on forty-five minutes of prep before she could even consider leaving the house.


	6. Chapter 6

John woke to the sight of Face laying shirtless and uncovered beside him. Beyond, at the door, sheer curtains weren't completely closed, giving a view of the ocean and seagulls pinwheeling through the sky. It came to him he was on his side. First time he'd been able to roll to his side unaided. He reached to touch Temp's face. He roused and stretched, rolling to face John. Those impossibly blue eyes opened. _He's usually not that light of a sleeper._

"Good morning, Beau." Temp too reached, allowing fingertips to rest just on John's cheekbone. It was the first morning since this began that he wasn't met with a blank, somewhat spacey stare. "How ya feelin'? Better then yesterday?"

"I think so."

How Face loved that rumbling voice. Tucking both hands under his pillow, he scanned the features in front of him. Sometimes he had to shake himself. How had he managed to get so lucky? He still asked what the hell had he done to be so privileged to be the one Hannibal Smith chose?

"What are you looking at, Kid?"

 _Don't jinx it by putting it in spoken words._ "At you." He got up and stretched again sitting on the side of the bed. Taking his jeans from the back of the chair he headed for the bathroom, "Be back in a few."

Hannibal listened to Face's familiar morning routine. Toilet seat up and a strong steady stream. _Oh to have a young prostate again._ Toilet seat back down. Kid always put the seat back down. It's not like there were women around. Well there is right now, but she's not using this bathroom. The water came on for a quick hand wash. Now was the moment of appearance contemplation, assessing the lines around his eyes, noting any new grey hairs. Hannibal could almost hear him sigh through the door.

Next was brushing his teeth. It was Hannibal's turn to sigh when he thought about the toothbrushes. Face had purchased both of them fancy $10 toothbrushes. Who in their right mind spends $10 on a toothbrush? His man did. They spun in circles and jiggled like whores. Run on batteries they were loud as hell, but Temp used his diligently exactly as the packaging instructed. Hannibal thought it felt like a janitor had been unleashed in his mouth with a floor polisher. He didn't turn his on anymore. Used it like a regular toothbrush. Back and forth, up and down as he's brushed his teeth for the past half century. Thought he could be rid of the thing as he noticed the bristles flattening out. As he reached for it one morning Face was happily chirping from the other room, "I forgot to tell ya I bought us new heads for our toothbrushes." Domesticity. He would have the toothbrush until his dying day, he just knew it.

Back in the bedroom again he helped Hannibal stand and supported him to the bathroom. "You're doing a lot better today!" he enthused. John noted he felt somewhat human again. He even stood to urinate. Face had been insisting he sit down. Said he didn't want to cleanup piss, God knows where, from Hannibal waving unsteadily around in front of the bowl. "How about a bath today? This is a nice long tub."

"You telling me I smell?"

"No, actually you don't."

"Rather take a shower."

"You're not steady enough for that."

"I'll be fine if you're in there with me."

Face had a flash of Hannibal slipping, taking both of them down. The two of them yelling until BA came to sort it all out. "That's not going to happen."

They had moved to the sink. Hannibal holding on while Face doused the toothbrush, added paste, flicked it on and handed the thing over. As he moved it around in his mouth he thought the vibrations made his brain hurt.

Back in bed sitting up, propped with pillows, "Face, we need to talk about moving on. I'm good to go."

"We'll talk about it later. Right now I need to get you some breakfast. How about scrambled eggs and toast?"

"That's fine, but really Temp..."

"It's not happening today. We'll talk about it later. I'll be back in a little while," and shot out the door.

 

Hannibal was sitting on the edge of the tub as the water drained. A thick towel was wrapped around his waist while Face rubbed his head with another. He just sat with his head dropped forward and let his man fuss over him.

"I'd like to get dressed today."

"Okay, I'll find something for you." Face had a brush now and was straightening out the mess he had left on Hannibal's head.

"Temp, I love you."

"Thanks."

Hannibal used to wonder about that response. More often than not the kid would say, "I love you too." But every now and again he would come out with this one word. Hannibal had learned over time it meant one of two things: the kid was over emotional and didn't trust what would come out of his mouth or he truly was thankful. The latter always surprised him, seeing as Hannibal was the one who was so thankful Face loved him.

Aside from a hand to help him stand, Hannibal was managing quite well for himself. He walked back into the bedroom unaided and with the exception of socks was able to dress himself. While he was in the bath Face had changed the sheets and opened the door and windows. Although a bit chilly the freshness of it all struck Hannibal and invigorated him.

"You want to sit outside?"

"Sounds good."

"Let's get ya another sweater."

"Stop nursing," John barked.

Temp stood up from digging in Hannibal's bag, sweater in hand, hurt all over his face, "Don't."

"I'm sorry. I'm frustrated."

"I know."

And he really did know and John felt like a heel. Face was offering him the sweater which he put on without further comment followed by the younger man's hand extended to help him stand. Hannibal sighed, angry with himself, and accepted the offer. Temp rubbed up and down his back and smiled that shy smile, a smile that was only for him, and lead the way out to the lounge chair.

When he was settled Face asked, "You gonna get mad if I bring you a blanket for your lap?"

Already thoroughly chastised, he said no.

Face was back in a flash, "You want it now or just to have handy?"

Hannibal knew he couldn't help himself, always trying to make things better. It didn't stop at him either. Whatever he could do to make things just a little easier, a little better, a little less difficult, a little more comfortable for any member of the team, he did. "I'll take it now. If it gets too warm I can push it off."

This was music to Temp's ears. He unfolded the quilt over Hannibal, tucking in the ends. Pulling up a chair facing him, "You look so much better."

"I feel better." Never one to mince his words he plowed ahead, "We need to get on the road."

Temp looked over his shoulder, out to the ocean, "We're not going anywhere."

"This has all been well and good...."

Face interrupted him, "I have assumed command in response to our leader being incapacitated and will remain until such time I feel the authority can be safely returned."

"What?"

Face returned his eyes to Hannibal. There was a determination there Hannibal knew well. Nothing in those eyes gave any indication there could be a compromise. Throughout his military career, Hannibal had to agree to orders and entered into situations he wouldn't otherwise considered because he knew how the game was played. Orders moved down the ranks. Now? It would seem he was the top of the food chain amongst their little group. Truth be told, it was really Face.

Face followed along with all of Hannibal's harebrained ideas, though he often whined and complained, he never failed to procure any essential or non essential item needed for a job. He rallied when the other two looked skeptical. He picked up pieces of schemes that didn't go quite as planned, which was all of them. Through it all he followed John, only occasionally questioning. But when it really came down to it, if he without any qualms disagreed with Hannibal, he had the last word. He was the only man on Earth Hannibal would backdown from. It wasn't a question of fear. It wasn't a question of dominance. It was respect. Hannibal respected his opinion, knew it was never given lightly or without thought.

"We have a safe place right here. No one is looking for us. We never stay at a location when a job is done. There are no indications we will be found here. And you are in no condition to be driving around in a bumpy Suburban. Mark suspects your sternum is fractured. It needs a minimum of a week to stabilize. I am giving you that week. I am taking the decision out of your hands"

"You don't trust me?"

Face took his hand in both of his own, though Hannibal tried to wrest it free, he wasn't letting go. "I trust you with my life, but I don't trust you with your own." He turned John's hand so the backs of his fingers were up and nuzzled his cheek into them. His head was turned so he could see the water. John reached with his other hand to pet his head.

Murdock seldom saw them like this. They made great efforts to keep what was private private. When BA thought of them as a couple, he tried not to picture them in bed. When Murdock thought of them as a couple, this is exactly what he saw. He quietly backed away from the bedroom doorway then made some obvious noises in the hall. When he looked around the doorway again they had separated and Face was saying, "We're out here."

"Game of Gin Rummy?" Murdock asked holding up a deck of cards.

"Sounds good."

"I'll leave you two to it. Take this chair, Buddy."

"Thanks, Facey."

"Thanks, Temp," Hannibal added with a smile.


	7. Chapter 7

BA was watching sports highlights on the computer. "Run out of things to fix?"

BA chuckled. "That dishwasher needs some work, but I thought I should pace myself."

Face saw movement out front and checked around the curtain. "Gloria's here."

"How does she run a business with how much she's away from it?"

"I think she's lonely," Face replied as he went to open the front door. "Hi Gloria! Good to see ya," planting a kiss on her cheek.

"I hope I'm not bothering you," looking around as she stepped through the door.

"Naw, I was just thinking of making a stack of sandwiches. Want to join us for lunch?"

"Oh I don't want to intrude."

"You won't be. Seriously."

"I don't know."

"Well while you're deciding you can come keep me company while I make them."

She smiled a little smile. She liked these guys. "What are we having?"

Face flashed a smile right back at her, "You should know. You're the one who went shopping."

"Pastrami on rye?"

"With Swiss and Dusseldorf. Here." He handed her the bread, mustard and a knife, "Start spreading."

 

Murdock had tucked Hannibal back into bed and his lunch was put aside for him. The remaining three joined Gloria around the kitchen table. They asked her about her, obviously, thriving real estate and rental businesses.

"Everything here is cyclical. Town's main economy historically had been based in fishing. But like so many manual industries these days, there's not much room for the little guys. It's harder to get started now than ever. Plus we always had the competition from New England. Their big ports and commercial vessels are insurmountable for a young man or woman to go up against with a two man crew and a trawler. In the last fifteen years or so we've only had two new operations set up. Both of them are consortiums. One is run by three brothers and a sister, the other is a group of high school friends now all in their thirties.

"There are fishing seasons and during the off season we would all be scrambling to make it through winter. I was driving through town one night just before Christmas about seven or eight years ago. I looked up from the actual road and had a view of downtown from the North end of Main St. And it hit me. What a cute little town we lived in. If we played it right we could turn it into a great holiday destination.

"I joined the town council and we spent several years rejuvenating the downtown. We repainted and repaired every store front. We would have weekend paint parties. We'd pull a business out of a hat and we'd all converge on it over a weekend to give the owner a boost. That owner, of course, was with us the next weekend at someone else's place. Did that until it was all ship shape.

"We have a great little Christmas town. Tree lighting, pageant, Christmas breakfasts, lunches, teas, dinners, carolers. Bob brings his team to town for sleigh and hay rides. We don't have a Santa, we have a Father Christmas, Tim Marsden. He has a half dozen reindeer and a sleigh with bells, delivers fruit and nuts throughout the night. Leaves packages of them on people's doorsteps and outside the rooms of guests at the inn.

"I started buying abandoned fisherman cottages, rehabbing and updating them. They're perfect for overnights. When I have guests I let Tim know to put it on his list and I pay for the packages. I call Rachael and ask her to have the carolers stop by.

"Then a couple of years ago I bought my first beach house and I've been doing a decent business in rentals for the summer months. Other people are doing the same. It's looking like lightning's gonna strike twice here. We're building a great summer community. The MacElfee family is even getting in on it. They now have a 'guest' trawler. They take guests out for a day of commercial fishing. Doing a good business too as I understand it. Hoo'dathunk? How many towns can say they've had two Renaissances in less than ten years? Then Barlow showed up. You know the rest. I know I speak for everyone when I say we can't thank you enough for what you've done."

"You're welcome, Gloria," Face replied. "But don't forget your town paid us."

"A pittance compared to what all could have been lost."

"Were you born here Gloria?" Murdock asked.

This had Gloria telling them her life story. When she finished Murdock absently noted Gloria wasn't only reinventing a fishing village, then headed for the bathroom. She was a little rattled by the remark and began stumbling over her words.

BA saw her bristle, "Hope he didn't hurt your feelings, Gloria. We're used to his bluntness and know he doesn't mean any harm."

"It's not easy competing for men these days," she opined.

Face started closing pickle jars, "You may no longer be surrounded in diamonds, but it sounds like you've built a hell of a life for yourself here."

"Diamonds have lost their luster for me." Murdock had returned and was picking up plates and silverware. He left Gloria's for last as she was drawing designs in the remains of her cold slaw dressing with a tine of her fork. "De Beers lied to me. Sure, the diamonds themselves last forever, but what they represent doesn't. That's just a bunch of horse shit." The three of them eyed each other. "No, if I had my choice in what I'd be surrounded in, it would be sapphires. They're blue. The color of the sky. The color of the sea. The color of snow on moonlit nights. Those things are real. Diamonds represent promises made and broken." Murdock's hand was on her plate. She set down her fork and he took it away.

Face rose thinking he should check on Hannibal.

When Face rose so did their guest, "Look at the time. I should get back to the office."

BA rose too, "Having lunch with us again tomorrow?"

"No, I think I'm becoming a bother."

"Not at all. We like having you here," Murdock smiled. "I'm going to be making lasagna," he teased.

"How about I bring the garlic bread?"

 

Face had picked up Hannibal's lunch plate and was about to take it downstairs, leaving him undisturbed, when he heard behind him, "You coming back, Kid?"

"Hey. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, not really sound asleep."

"Can I lay down with you."

"Of course."

Face set the plate down and lay on the bed next to him. Propped up with pillows he wrapped his arm around his shoulder as John set his head on Temp's chest. "Any blowback from taking out Barlow?"

"No, nothing."

"I love it when a plan comes together."

"How would you know?"

John's eyes were closed as he chuckled.

Temp reached to the nightstand for Hannibal's book, "What do you want to hear about? How to escape from a mountain lion or how to deliver a baby in a taxicab?"

"Both."


	8. Chapter 8

Hannibal was in the bathroom when Temp came in with a tray containing both their breakfasts. "You okay in there, John?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Face had the breakfast plates on the little table when John came out of the bath not only dressed, but also shaved for the first time in four days.

"Want some help with your socks?"

"When we're done eating. What do we have?"

"Murdock made corn pancakes," Face answered, pouring coffee.

"Looks good."

"You want to come downstairs today, get out of this room for a little while?"

"Alright."

 

It was late afternoon when Gloria arrived. They had pushed lasagna to a late lunch early dinner. Hannibal had run out of steam and was on his way to the stairs. "I can't thank you enough for allowing us to stay here Ms. Stewart. Face has told me how generous you've been with your time."

 _Isn't he charming_. "It's been my pleasure. Your men have been great entertainment. And call me Gloria."

"And you can call me Hannibal. It's been nice to see you. I'm heading upstairs."

"You're not joining everyone for dinner?"

"Can't manage it. I'll probably have some later. Excuse me."

"I'll be back down in a few minutes," Face added as he followed Hannibal up the stairs.

 

"But you made dinner. You can't do the dishes too," Gloria complained.

"I don't mind. I like doing dishes. Soapy water gives me a thrill."

"Well Murdock the least I can do is give you a hand loading the dishwasher."

" 'Fraid it's not working. BA's going to work on it tomorrow."

"Oh no. I can't let him do that. I'll get a repairman out here."

"Don't do that. He's been itchin' to get his hands on it for two days now. Was going to work on it today, but it was the first time Hannibal was down here with us since he got hurt."

"Should I offer to pay him?"

"No. It's his way of saying thank you," he had the sink filled with water and bubbles.

"I should be thanking you, thanking him."

"You already have Gloria. It's been nice having you visit. We get a little tired of looking at each other," he was plunging dishes in the sink, scrubbing, rinsing then handing off to be dried.

"I think it's interesting you all stay together. Wouldn't you be able to better disappear if you separated?"

"If I disappear anymore than I already have, I'll be nothing but a puff of smoke." He scrubbed a particularly stubborn bit of tomato sauce. "You must feel like that too sometimes, huh?"

 _He sure has a way of hitting the nail on the head._ "Yes, I guess I do. But I suppose that's what I'm looking for," she added almost to herself.

"Don't know why. I think you're grand."

"Grand older women are lonely at night."

"It's kinda hard for me to tell, but I don't consider you 'older'."

"That's very sweet of you, but women 'of a certain age' need to put in a lot of effort. The world belongs to younger women. It's what's desired."

"I don't agree with you," he said as he emptied the sink for a fresh batch of water.

"Just look at your Hannibal and his young man," she lamented.

"You shouldn't judge Hannibal and Facey by that criteria. They have a long history together. Hannibal would be crazy for Face no matter what his age. There's a bond between those two that has nothing to do with age or looks." He started washing the glassware before the sink had finished filling.

"Maybe."

"I know it's true. I also know Face loves Hannibal no matter what. Loves him for exactly what and who he is. Wouldn't change him for the world, wouldn't want Hannibal to change. Wouldn't consider trading him in for a newer model. Ya know Faceman's not getting any younger either." He handed over another glass to dry. "Time marches on. Sometimes, instead of trying to stop it, we should just let it march."

"Is that how you think of me? Someone trying to stop time?"

"I think you're trying to recapture something that wasn't worth the effort in the first place. Think you deserve a lot better than someone who can't keep his pants zipped." He winked at her and pulled the plug. She couldn't help smiling and could feel her face coloring.

At the door Murdock didn't even bother to ask. He assumed she'd be back. "See ya tomorrow, Gloria. Have a good night."

 

Hannibal was on his side rolled away from Face. Temp kneaded and massaged his neck, shoulders and back.

"Make love to me?" asked Hannibal.

"No."

"No?" Hannibal turned his head up to the ceiling. "Since when do you turn down a roll?"

"I wouldn't enjoy myself. Be too worried about hurting you."

"We have this big beautiful bed and all we're going to do is sleep in it?"

"Maybe tomorrow you can have a blow job." John chuckled. Temp moved in close, pressing his chest to Hannibal's back, urging him to lean back with a hand on his shoulder. "No, you lay here and let me hold you." He nuzzled his nose into his neck and listened to the music of John's breathing as he slipped into sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Murdock answered the door when Gloria arrived the next afternoon. "Gloria! You look beautiful!" She had kept her hair appointment for a dye, but instead of the coppery red she asked instead for a rich brown with plenty of blond highlights. She also went with a feathered swing cut rather than the pileup she had been sporting. When she got in her car outside the beauty shop she twisted her rearview mirror to take another look. With the softer hues of her hair, her makeup looked frightful. She snatched tissues out of the box she kept in the console of the car and began wiping. She wasn't able to get it all off, but managed to tone it down.

Murdock led her by the hand into the living room where Face and Hannibal were setting up a game of Risk. When they looked up, they both stared.

Hannibal said rather bluntly, "I had no idea you're so beautiful."

Face could only sputter out, "Oh my."

"Here. Have a seat," Murdock was pulling out a chair.

Face received a kick in the shin under the table from Hannibal to break his stare. He shook himself a little. Couldn't believe the transformation. "Want to play with us?"

"I've never been very good at this, but sure, I'll play," and tucked herself closer to the table.

Face yelled into the kitchen, "Sure you don't want to play, BA?"

"I already told you, I'm not playin' no world domination game with a dude called 'Hannibal'."

Hannibal chuckled and waited while Murdock fetched a soda for Gloria. They each rolled the dice to determine who would begin. Gloria started them off and soon demonstrated she wasn't kidding when she said she wasn't very good at the game. She was quickly overrun by invading armies.

"What was I thinking even attempting to play this with military men? Anyone want anything from the kitchen?" They all declined and she made her way to see Bosco."

BA had the dishwasher pulled out from under the cabinet and was sitting on the floor working gears together. He looked up when Gloria entered. "Look at you. You look mighty fine."

"Thank you. How's your project coming along?"

"Think I have it all sorted out. Need to put it back together now."

"You know BA, you seem different to me than the others."

Without looking up, "How so?"

"You seem more reserved. More thoughtful."

"Don't know if that's the case or not."

"Did you ask to work under Hannibal?"

"Yes and no." He recounted the story of Mexico for her. "So Hannibal and Face had already been together for years. Murdock? Hannibal went looking for him. Me? I was an accident. That I was on that part of the road on that day at that time was nothing but an accident. He told me if I could keep my anger in check and not threaten anymore officers he could use me on his team and he would move Heaven and Hell to have me reinstated. And he did.

"It's funny, when Hannibal found me I was runnin' from the things I had done. Now I'm runnin' all because of something I didn't do. Was runnin' to lose myself. Runnin' now so I don't become lost. Think I like it better this way. But I always seem to be runnin', know what I mean, don'tcha Gloria. You know there's more than one way of livin' a life on the run."

"There certainly is BA. I'm hoping my run's over. I'm getting tired."

He gave her a one sided smile, "I hope your run's over too, girl."

"I need to be going. I appreciate your work on the garbage disposal and now this."

"I appreciate you letting us care for Hannibal here."

She waved at the game players as she was leaving. Hannibal stood to see her out. "Your brother was here earlier. Said I was looking good. So we'll be on the road soon. I wanted to tell you again personally how grateful I am."

"Oh you gentlemen do go on."

"I mean it, Gloria. There are people we've worked with who could walk up to me, tell exactly what job we did and how they played in it and I wouldn't be able to identify them. But you, my men and I will always remember you." He leaned and gave her a peck on the cheek then stepped ahead to open the door. She left with a smile and a bit of a blush.


	10. Chapter 10

In the morning Gloria spent time finding a sophisticated wool wrap dress with a coordinating wool shoulder wrap. She found both in combinations of sapphire blue and chocolate brown. She stopped in by Karen for a cosmetic makeover. It was the first time in years she felt human in her own skin. She ran into her brother on the street. It took him a moment to recognize her. She said Hannibal had said he was better. Mark noted he had suspicions Hannibal and Face maybe lovers. "Oh catch up, Mark. Are you only figuring that out now?"

She drove out to the beach house and knocked on the door. Normally they heard her coming and if they didn't have the door already open for her they were there in a few seconds. But there was no answer. Her heart was sinking as she fished out her keys. Poking her head around the door she called, "Hello? Anyone here?" The dishes were all washed and put away in the kitchen. Going upstairs in both the second floor bedrooms and the top floor master suite she could see without rummaging they were empty. All the towels were washed and hung just so. The sheets were washed and all the beds were made with military precision.

She went back to the kitchen. Looking at the table she burst into tears. It wasn't so much for the gift of company they gave her, but for the gift of her life back. She wanted to thank them for not only chasing away Barlow, but also for chasing off her asshole ex-husband, for treating her with such respect. But they were gone now and she would no doubt never hear from them again.

As she returned to her office Terry Powell happened to be looking out the window from his insurance office across the street from her real estate firm. He picked up his phone and dialed. He waited as Gloria walked across to her desk, he could watch her from his big glass windows through her big glass windows. Why yes, she would like to join him for lunch. How thoughtful of him to ask. As he hung up he saw a Fed Ex truck pull up in front of her office.

The receptionist signed for the small package and walked it to Gloria at her desk. Gloria swore her socks wiggled when out of the padded Fed Ex envelope slid a box in the unmistakable Tiffany blue. She finally worked up the nerve to untie the single white ribbon and lift off the lid. 

Inside was a tennis bracelet. It wasn't the typical circle of diamonds. This was special, a little different. It was a band of sapphires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, if you enjoyed this please let me know with a kudo &/or comment. Thanks!


End file.
